The Type of World That This Is

This is the type of world
where everything passes,
but not always with grace.
Where explanations can be purchased,
or shot verbally in the heat of the moment,
or stamped across the sky
like a storm.
Where people move along rigidly
intent on matching footsteps
when all they want to do
is move in overlapping circles,
so that goodbye would only be
for 360 degrees.

This is the type of world
with horizons welded to the sky;
where all you can ever see
is the edge of a dome.

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